


my name is john.

by hpd_lance



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, This Is STUPID, Trans Dave (implied), Trans Dave Strider, Trans John, Trans John Egbert, Trans Male Character, if u read this i love u, maybe part of a series idk, me? projecting on my favorite characters? its more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:05:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpd_lance/pseuds/hpd_lance
Summary: Maybe even you think you're a boy sometimes. Or all the time. You're not, though! Because you're a girl, and girls can't be boys. They just can't. You're only eleven, and even you know that!TG tells you simply, "im a boy" and you respond with a simple "me too."It doesn't feel like a lie.





	my name is john.

**Author's Note:**

> its been a hot mminute since ive actually written and posted anyhting and i hope u guys like this stupid drabble its just some pre-game pre-everything stuff and its kind of a vent fic too idk

You met TG online when you were ten years old. Originally, neither of you wanted to disclose your name or gender or age or anything like that, because what if the other was a creep??? Or a kidnapper?? Or a literal monster?? Both of your guardians had warned you about stranger danger, and neither of you were willing to risk getting in trouble. So you referred to each other as GT and TG for the first year and a half of your friendship.

A few months into talking, TG introduced you to GG, a chipper girl who didn't seem to care what you knew about her. She was a little older than you. You tried not to let that bother you.

You were eleven when you met TT. She shared enough for you to know you had things in common, but not enough for you to know anything substantial.

The four of you made an agreement. If you were all still friends when you were 12, you would all tell the others your names, and genders. TG was the only one who's gender you didn't know, but TT always implied that she knew, which was frustrating, because TG was YOUR friend first, and it wasn't fair that TT got to know before you. You didn't even know how to refer to TG. You just called TG "TG" in your head any time you had to think about TG. You're pretty sure TG thinks you're a boy, though, which is funny, really! It seems like everyone thinks you're a boy.

Maybe even you think you're a boy sometimes. Or all the time. You're not, though! Because you're a girl, and girls can't be boys. They just can't. You're only eleven, and even you know that!

Sometimes though, when you're alone, you look in the mirror and call yourself John, because one time you took a quiz that said that would be your name if you were a boy, and you liked it, so why not? It's not like you're trying to be a boy, you just like the way it sounds. John Egbert.

Whatever.

You're just waiting for your friend's twelfth birthdays to roll around.

****************************************************

GG is too impatient to wait until her real birthday to tell you her name, so you find out on Thanksgiving that her name is Jade, and she has a dog named Becquerel, but it's hard to spell so she just calls him Bec. You send her a virtual high-five, and tell her Happy Thanksgiving.

TT tells you at midnight on her birthday that her name is Rose. She doesn't say much else, just "Call me Rose." and she leaves it at that.

TG doesn't talk to you on TG's birthday. TG doesn't message anyone for a week, you asked both of your mutual friends. When you do finally hear from TG, the message simply says, "im a boy." and you respond with a simple "me too."

It doesn't feel like a lie.

****************************************************

On a random day in January, TG messages you, and his typing makes it look almost like he's crying. You'd be lying if you said you weren't worried about your friend. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ghostyTrickster  [GT] \--

TG: gt cna i tell yuo somthing  
TG: i need you to knpw  
TG: my name s dave  
TG: dvae  
TG: its dave  
GT: okay!! are you okay?  
GT: it seems like you have been crying  
TG: im better thn okay gt  
TG: im lellaciously good rihgt now  
TG: i was nt crying dont tell anyone i was  
GT: okay :B  
GT: i am glad you are good right now  
GT: hey dave?  
TG: oh hell yeah  
TG: what s up  
GT: i am glad you told me your name  
TG: me too gt  
TG: me too  
TG: have to go my bro is callign  
TG: lobve you  
GT: uhh  
GT: i love you too :B

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] \--

****************************************************

April 13th, 2008 rolls around, and you're nervous. Today's the day you told your friends you would tell them your name. For some reason, every time you type it out, you feel sick to your stomach. You can't type it without feeling like you're going to throw up the cake your dad made you. The cake also had your name on it, and it made you feel sick too. Maybe the cake is what's bothering you.

You walk into the bathroom and glare at your glasses. Your hair falls in long, black tresses down your back. You'd never really paid attention to it much, but now it felt... wrong. Your dad would probably let you cut your hair if you asked, he's all for you trying new things... and the scissors are right there, maybe you could cut it yourself? You're not usually impulsive, but there's always room for improvement.

Before you can overthink, you grab the scissors and start cutting.

Your dad finds you about an hour later, sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down your face, surrounded by enough hair to cover a large dog.

He doesn't say anything, just shifts some hair away and sits down next to you. He starts gently patting your back, and you lean into his shoulder. It takes a minute, but you stop crying, and your dad gestures at the hair all over the floor, as if asking, "Why?". You shrug. "I wanted to try something new."

He nods, and you hope that means he understands. "It looks kind of bad," He says, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and pity, and maybe disappointment. "Do you mind standing up so I can fix it?" You shake your head, and he lifts himself up to his feet and offers you a hand up. You take it. He walks to the hall closet, grabs the broom, and sweeps all the hair off the floor into a neat little pile.

"Hey, dad?"  
"Yes dear?"  
"... Will you call me John?"

He doesn't reply, at first, and his face goes flat, and for a moment you're worried he's mad, but then he sets down the broom and dustpan, and pulls you into a tight hug. "Of course I will." He gently pats your head, then continues, "Now let's fix this hair."

****************************************************

my name is john.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading whatever the fuck that was


End file.
